


What Makes Us

by huokua



Series: Ash and Clare Prompt Project [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Basically Clares parents can't make up their minds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gender Issues, I hated myself for this, Other, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, So Clare makes it up for them, Trans Female Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huokua/pseuds/huokua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were staring. They were staring and she could feel it like weight on her bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Us

**Author's Note:**

> Second Prompt fill. Prompt was Hurt/Self Comfort and had to use someone hiding in a bathroom for hours.

They were  _staring_. They were staring and she could feel it like weight on her bones. Eyes on her face, her clothes, her hair and she wanted to scream. She wanted to look them in the eye and ask them  _why_. Why now, why not when she first walked into this shit of a school in high heels and announced that she was going out for baseball.

But she didn't, couldn't,  _wouldn't._ She tucked her chin down and shuffled to her locker, kneeling and trying to make herself as small and insignificant as she felt. “ _She_ ” Clare laughed, a hollow dry sound just barely escaping from lips bit raw. Shoving aside books to fit her cleats, she risked a glance down the hall, eyes searching and instantly locking on Ash- _Ashton._ Thats what he had said last night, when she had climbed into the tree outside her window, told him the things her parents had said, and then told him she was letting him go. No tears this time, not now, she had cried herself dry when later she had reflected on the look on his face when he started climbing out, the chill in his voice when she had called to him and he had told her “ _Ashton,_ _YOU call me Ashton.”_ Suddenly brown eyes locked with hazel, and Clare had to grip her locker tight till it hurt, fighting off the dizziness that surface when his eyes narrowed and his lip curled in disgust at the sight of her. No tears, no tears,  _'Men don't cry'_  at that thought a sound somewhere between shame and distress worked through her throat.

Eyes were on her again and she stood,bag still on the floor and locker still open, walking in a daze towards the restrooms. Once again, eyes were watching, she barely noticed this time though and kept walking till she came to the end of the hall pausing in front of the restrooms and faltering. She knew though, and she started to step towards the mens room when the door opened and one of her teammates stood there staring, inside the other occupants stared back at her. Even Danny eyed her,a cross between worry and suprise filling his features, he might have asked something, but she had slowly stepped forward and ignored another question from the boy holding the door open. Without her realizing they had shooed everyone out, and she stood in front of the mirror alone.

His, his reflection, she had been given a warning and she didn't want anymore fighting. Slowly raising her head, she finally looked at herself in the mirror, and she fought to keep her gaze on what she saw. The person staring back looked, broken and hollow, brown hair butchered to a short cut and face stained with tear tracks. She raised a hand a brushed it across sunken cheeks, and trembling lips.

This was her, him, them, it was the person who preferred being called Clare instead of Clarence, who loved stockings with print on them and wigs with waves and curls, who was in love with a boy who loved heels as much as she did, and preferred that she call him Ash.  _Was._  The thought of sending fist to the glass in front of her crossed her mind, to get rid of the other, to make it final that the person in front of her was the boy Clarence, who was supposed to like wearing baggy jeans or sweats, and have short hair and like girls. Fist poised she watched the boy in the mirrors face crumble, tears welling up in hazel eyes, before suddenly collapsing to the floor and sliding under the sink. The sound of first bell rang out, but her heartache drowned it out and echoed in across the tiles. Went unnoticed by the cries of the girl named Clare, and what made her, _Her._

 

_Two classes later, the bathroom door swung open, and the hestitant clack of heels echoed in the halls. Clare peeked out to eye the people in the hall._

 

_They were staring._

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized someone would have noticed she was in there for that long, but I figure Clare would flit out, hide elsewhere, keep moving. This also was where I realized Clare is a lot stronger then either of us thought she was.


End file.
